The Nameless Island Part 24

"But I feel all right again," replied the youth.

"Probably you do, but with your arm in that state absolute rest is essential. So go. Andy, we've had enough of this island, so let's clap on all sail and shape a course for home."

In the moonlight the entrance through the reef was plainly visible.

There was a favourable breeze, so that the yawl could lay on her course without having to tack.

As the anchor rose, a long-drawn chorus of shouts of rage came from the beach, and a swarm of arrows, all of which fell short, hurtled through the air.

"So much for our native allies," observed Mr. McKay. "They are all in the swim in this business. No matter, they can do us no harm."

To the accompaniment of a farewell shout of anger from the baffled inhabitants of Ni Atong, the yawl glided swiftly across the moonlit sea.

CHAPTER XVI

THE GALE

Throughout the night the stiff little craft gallantly breasted the waves, making a much better pa.s.sage than she had done on her outward voyage, and at sunrise the highest peak of McKay's Island appeared above the horizon.

But with the rising of the sun the wind increased in force, and an hour later it was blowing half a gale, and dead astern.

Trembling on the crest of a huge wave, then sliding with a sickening sensation down the green slope into the trough, the little craft held on her course, steered by Andy's sinewy arm.

Mr. McKay, unable to keep his eyes open, lay deep in slumber upon one of the bunks.

Ellerton, propped up by cushions, was kept awake by the motion of the boat, every lurch causing his wound to pain horribly.

"Another couple of hours will find us home, Hoppy, old man," exclaimed Terence cheerily, as he entered the cabin. "But it does blow."

"So I should think," replied Ellerton. "But how is she behaving?"

"Like a cork; we've only had the tail end of a couple of seas aboard.

Well, cheer up! Make yourself at home and wish you were," and with this pleasantry Terence returned to keep Andy company.

Each time the yawl breasted the summit of a wave, the peak of McKay's Island could be seen rearing its head above the waste of storm-tossed waters. Each time it did so it appeared to be getting nearer.

Andy knew that there was danger ahead, but he forebore to mention the fact to his chum.

The "back-wash" from the terrible reef, with its accompaniment of a tumble of dangerous cross-seas, had to be encountered, and the risky pa.s.sage through the coral barrier made at all costs.

For half-an-hour more the seas, though high, were comparatively regular, but at the expiration of that time the dinghy, which was being towed astern, was filled by a vicious comber. The dead weight of the water-logged craft caused the stout painter to snap like pack-thread, and the next instant the tender was lost to view in the turmoil of foaming water.

"Can't we go back for her?" shouted Terence, for the howling of the wind made ordinary conversation inaudible.

"Impossible!" replied his chum. "She would be swamped before we hauled to the wind. Besides, the dinghy's done for."

"It's a rotten look-out. We shall miss her."

"Yes," a.s.sented Andy. "But it can't be helped. Look here, Terence, now we are going through a patch of broken water. I can see it a mile or so ahead. We may have a few seas on board, so lash yourself to this cleat and stand by with the bucket. You may have to bale for all you're worth."

Terence closed the cabin-doors. Fortunately they were close-fitting and comparatively watertight; but, on the other hand, the c.o.c.kpit was not a self-emptying one. Whatever quant.i.ty of water broke over had to be baled out.

"We'll have one of those cans of kerosene out of that locker,"

continued Andy.

"Going to start the motor?"

"No; to throw oil on the sea. Kerosene's not very heavy, but it's all we have. Now, stand by, here it comes."

Only a mile now separated the yawl from the entrance to the lagoon of McKay's Island, but every yard of that mile was beset with dangers.

Andy gripped the tiller, and braced himself for the ordeal. He had been the chief workman in the task of converting the boat into her present form, and now his handiwork was to be put to the test. A faulty piece of wood, a defective screw, an unsound rope--and their lives would have to answer for it.

With a dull roar a white-crested wave broke over the fore-deck, burying the little yawl as far as the mainmast; then ere she could recover herself another comber came like a cataract over the lee quarter. Well it was that both lads had taken the precaution of lashing themselves on, otherwise they might have been swept clean out of the well.

Andy, wellnigh breathless--for he had been hit in the side by the tiller as the boat attempted to broach to--retained sufficient presence of mind to thrust the helm up and enable the craft to meet the next following wave stern on.

"Bale!" he shouted. "Bale for your life!" and seizing the kerosene can that was floating from side to side of the c.o.c.kpit, he splayed a quant.i.ty of oil over each quarter.

Terence, who was thrown in every direction as far as his tether would allow, struggled manfully with the bucket, but could hardly cope with the frequent showers of spray that literally played over the boat from every point of the compa.s.s.

The helmsman noticed, with feelings of deepest concern, that the yawl had made considerable headway since entering the zone of broken water, and it would be touch-and-go whether they could avoid being carried on to the lee side of the coral reef.

It was now nearly high tide, and the cruel ridges were covered, although in the trough of the heavier waves the jagged lines of glistening coral showed themselves above the smother of foam.

Andy tried his best to keep the boat's head towards the channel, but in vain. She had lost ground, and was driving straight for the reef. One chance alone remained. He must put the yawl about and endeavour to claw-off the treacherous reef.

Like a top the little craft responded to the shift of the helm. For a few brief seconds the reefed head-sail slatted violently in the howling wind; then, to the accompaniment of another tremendous sea, the yawl staggered on her fresh course.

Andy's idea was to sail round to the lee side of the island and cruise about in the shelter of the reef till the gale moderated; but a few moments sufficed to show him that the spread of canvas--already as much as the vessel could carry--was not sufficient to take her to windward.

She was drifting broadside on to the reef.

"Quick, Terry!" he shouted. "Tell them to stand by and make a rush directly you open the cabin door. The yawl's done for. She'll be smashed to splinters in five minutes."

Mr. McKay received the appalling intelligence fairly calmly. He at once proceeded to fasten a lifebelt round Ellerton's practically helpless form, and then did a like service to Quexo. Nor did he forget the prisoner, Blight. But, on sliding back the fo'c'sle hatch, he found the man lying senseless on the floor. Either he had fainted through sheer fright, or he had been stunned by being thrown against one of the lockers, and bound hand and foot, had been unable to help himself.

Blight was no feather-weight, but in spite of the plunging and rolling of the doomed craft, Mr. McKay gripped him with one hand and dragged his senseless body into the cabin. Then, cutting his bonds, he completed his work of mercy by lashing the sole remaining lifebelt round the body of his would-be murderer.

"You've nothing to put on," gasped Ellerton.

"True; but I have my strength," was the reply, as Mr. McKay stealthily girded on a leather belt in which hung a formidable sheath-knife. It was not the thought of being cast on the waters that troubled him.

Death, should it come, would be swift and merciful. But should they survive the dangers of the reef there was the probability of far greater peril.

Though he forbore to mention the fact to Ellerton, Mr. McKay thought of the sharks, and with a fervent unspoken prayer to save them from these creatures, he stood ready for the cabin door to be opened.

Meanwhile Terence and Andy had cut themselves free from their lashings.

Twenty yards away the reef showed its teeth as if waiting for its prey.